L'Oeuf was an adventurer, an explorer and a businessman in a raccoon hat and fur boots; better known as a Voyageur. Originally from the big city of Montreal, he now plied his trade down the well beaten trails and winding rivers of the vast wilderness of western Canada. Paddling his trusty canoe 'Marie' up and down the river highways, he carried her overland whenever he had to and slept in her at night (or underneath her when it rained or snowed, which unfortunately was often). The Voyageur made his rounds every season, trading with the friendly native people for metal spatulas and egg beaters.
Folks said that L'Oeuf was a little 'cracked in the head,' as he was constantly talking with his canoe and would sometimes argue with her furiously in French. Stories say that he once smacked his shell on an extra-hard rock during a spill down some rapids, and ever since that day, he was a little 'off.' During those dark days, the Voyageur and Marie were on 'the outs' and things only got back to normal once he apologized to his faithful birch bark canoe. Thankfully for him, she accepted his apology!
L'Oeuf loved the wilderness and its people, bad eggs and all (and there were dozens of them!). Adventure was in his shell, and the world was his egg carton! Sometimes, late at night, though, he did dream of home: the smoky, fresh bagel-filled civilization of hustle-bustle Montreal; settling down with a cute chick and maybe raising a dozen eggs. Until then, he would sow his wild oats!